the old man waiting for his turn to die
by Scaramouche Khashoggi
Summary: Galileo runs into a familiar face at the Seven Seas of Rye one night and makes an interesting discovery. I may make this something longer if I get enough positive feedback or interest. Not a one shot anymore. Possibly more to come.
1. BroadwayThe Other Dreamer

**Yeah, another one of my "let's put my music on shuffle and see what happens" moments. What happened was that Goo Goo Dolls' Broadway came on. More of an explanation of how this evolved is at the end of the story. I don't own the characters, thought I would throw that out there. Also, reviews would be awesome, I like to hear (well actually read) what people think. **

Galileo groaned as he wandered into Pop's bar at the Seven Seas of Rye. Though it was very late, or very early depending on how you felt about those ungodly hours of the morning, the bar was open. It was always open. Its owner and sole bartender was always on hand, serving drinks throughout the night and into the early morning, and passed out either in a chair or behind the bar during midday. This was one of the few consistent things in his life, and he was thankful for it. Galileo could always count on Pop to listen to his problems, help him riddle out the newest lyric his mind remembered, or just get him drunk off his ass to help him sleep or forget about his problems for awhile.

Tonight he came at such a peculiar hour because Scaramouche and he had gotten into one of their post shag arguments. It ended with her kicking him out of their room so she could get some sleep. This wasn't the first time it had happened, and he knew she would be in a better mood once she had gotten some sleep. There was just no dealing with that woman when she was full of hormones and getting close to her monthly woman issue.

To Galileo's surprise, there was another person at the bar. He couldn't tell who it was from behind; the clothes didn't seem to match the style of any of the Heartbreak's bohemians. Sure, there were other ones running around now after Pop had emailed the rock concert around the globe, but there weren't many in this area. This man appeared to be older, and wore a ragged grey suit jacket. Pop didn't seem too worried about being around this man, but he did seem to tense a moment when he saw Galileo walk through the door though. The dreamer didn't notice however, as his thoughts were already back to trying to translate and make sense of new lyrics in his head.

Galileo's thoughts came crashing back to reality the moment he saw who he had just sat next to at the bar.

"K...K..Khashogghi?!" he stammered out, his recently cured stutter coming back in full force. "W...W..What are you doing here."

"Getting drunk young Galileo, what else would I be doing?" the older man replied, not seeming phased by Galileo's outburst.

"It's alright Shagileo," Pop vouched, "he got his brain fried about the same time as the concert. So what brings you down here at this hour?"

"Had a fight with Scaramouche, and she kicked me out for the rest of the night."

"Ahh, that time of month coming up?" Pop asked sympathetically as he pulled out a beer for the young man.

"Forgive me for prying," Khashoggi spoke up, "But who is Scaramouche, I don't remember any Bohemians claiming that name in my files, or what used to be my files."

"Scaramouche Fandango," Pop tried to explain, waving his arms about in wide gestures as though trying to teach Khashoggi through dance, "You know, the Hairy One? The Dreamer's Bad Assed Babe?"

When Galileo saw Khashoggi was probably too drunk to follow the list of names and Pop's gestures all at once, he added on, "She was the girl you locked me up with, the one that got one of those transmitters in her head."

"Ahh, yes know I remember. Funny how distant that seems. One minute, I was the head of secret police, rounding up free thinkers. Now I'm in their hell, sharing their booze."

"It'll get better, the depression is a side effect of brain drain. In a few days, you'll be feeling better," Pop said helpfully. "I'll be right back, I might have some pills to help that. Either that or they will make the place seem more colorful for a while."

Khashoggi shook his head. "I don't think it will get better." But Pop had already left. "There's nothing left to me now. I'm just like a young man sitting at an old man's bar, waiting for his turn to die," he muttered bitterly to his glass.

Galileo jumped out of his seat at the final sentence. There was no way Khashoggi should know that line. It wasn't written on his note books or laptop, he had just started hearing it a day ago. "H..H..How do you know that line?" He scolded himself for constantly reverting back to his stutter around this man. Scaramouche was going to kill him when she heard that the stutter had returned.

Khashoggi downed his drink. "Just the same as you hear them Galileo. It started with noise, but after that helmet, they turned into words."

"But I thought there was only one dreamer."

"I don't recall any prophecies on that. There would only be one bright star to lead the way to where the champions played, but never have I read that there would only be one dreamer. It's what all the rebels and bohemians are, dreamers. We just dream a little more vividly."

Galileo sat back down next to the broken man, "So you always heard that stuff, but still worked for GlobalSoft?"

"I tried to tell myself that I wasn't hearing things, that I wasn't mad. I wanted to prove it so much I became the complete opposite of my calling," the former officer confessed to his glass.

They sat there in silence for a few moments, trying to better understand each other.

"You have anywhere to stay?" Galileo asked

"I'd love to run home, but I know I don't got one."

Galileo shrugged at this, "You were living in a world that is best forgotten."

Khashoggi started to laugh, "It's like thinking of a joke."

"But no one is gonna listen around here." Galileo was now smiling. It was the first time he had someone who understood the voices, and knew what he was talking about when he voiced them. Scaramouche tolerated, most of the time. Meat and Pop treated it like something to be puzzled over and analyzed. Big Macca treated it as Galileo right to the title of dreamer. But here was a person who just saw it as a part of who he was, no pros or cons.

"How would you like to stay with me?" Galileo asked.

"I don't know if you're really want that."

"I don't either, but its better then nowhere. And it might help to have someone around who understands the madness."

"And how will your girlfriend, Scaramouche was it? How will she feel about this arrangement."

"She booted me out tonight, so it's pretty much her fault."

Khashoggi laughed at this and drank more liquor. "It's a deal then."

"There's just one thing I want to ask," Galileo spoke up as Pop came back in with a handful of pills, "Are you a cowboy?"

Khashoggi looked at Galileo as though thinking that maybe the boy really was mad. Then he broke into a large smile, "No, and I don't intend to kill the rockstar."

"I think I missed something," Pop muttered. He popped one of the pills he had brought for Khashoggi, "Bummer."

Well that's all. Sorry if it's random, I just decided to shuffle and the Goo Goo Dolls came on, and suddenly the conversation between Gazzer and Khash came to mind. Besides, I always wondered what happened to that guy after Another One Bites the Dust.


	2. You'll be in My HeartWhat the Hell?

**AN: So these "let's put iTunes on shuffle" games have some really strange results. When this story's song came on the first thing I typed on the page was "What the hell?" and that kinda inspired the story.**

**Song: You'll be in My Heart **

**From: Disney's Tarzan**

Ch. 2 You'll Be in my Heart aka What the Hell?!

Khashogghi wandered about the ruins of what used to be Wembley Stadium. It was now called the place of living rock he thought, a smile of amusement forming. He soon came to a wall with a gaping hole in it. It was where Galileo's girlfriend, Scaramouch Fandang-something-or-other, had pulled out the last true guitar on Planet Mall. People had already flocked to this spot, leaving offerings of flowers and shiny bits to honor the gods of rock and roll.

He continued on, something pushing him forward. There was something else he needed to find. On the outskirts of the stadium, he found what he was looking for, and his heart contracted in sorrow. There before him sat a broken Galileo Figaro, tears streaming down his face. Surprisingly, though the tears fell down the boy's face heavily, he made no noise. It was strange for Khashogghi to see this boy who had recently befriended him quiet. Usually he was gabbering away, either with his own thoughts or the memories of songs long since forgotten.

He sat down next to him as gently as he could, trying not to disturb the younger man. "Galileo?" he asked tentatively, almost afraid for the boy to respond. What had gotten the boy into this state?

The dark haired dreamer looked to the blond man and merely shook his head, tears still falling freely.

Without thinking, Khashogghi placed a hand on the boys shoulder. Slowly words started to form in their mind, just as they had ever since his brain drain. Usually, the drain was supposed to break the individual's dreams and desires, make one forget his individualist ideas. Khashogghi had desired to be normal and not hear the loose strains of music that would play in his head. Thus, when Killer Queen had that helmet placed on his head, she destroyed that dream, that control, Khashogghi had developed over that part of his mind. The wall had been broken, and the words started flowing freely.

Now he was happy that the words were starting to form. He would have been at a loss of what to say to the younger dreamer if he hadn't had them. The faint music he could make out with the words was much softer then what he was accustomed to hearing.

"Come stop your crying. It'll be alright. Just take my hand, hold it tight. I will protect you from all around you. I will be here, so don't you cry."

Galileo looked at him and the tears slowed. "For one so strong, you seem so strong."

Khashogghi nodded slowly, thinking about how short he appeared when he used to stand next to the Killer Queen and her massive hair. "This bond between us can't be broken. I will be here, don't you cry."

Galileo sighed and slumped his head onto Khashogghi's shoulder, "Why don't they understand the way we feel?"

Khashogghi merely shrugged, "They just don't trust what they can't explain."

"I know that we're different, but deep inside we're not that different at all." Those sad dark eyes looked into Khashogghi's pale eyes.

With a jerk Khashogghi found himself wide awake in a strange place. This wasn't the Seven Seas of Rye, not the bar at least. It was far too warm to be the street behind the bar either. He looked around his surroundings; he was on a sofa in a very cluttered room. He tried to recall what had happened the previous night. He could vaguely remember a period where the colors had seemed somewhat brighter, and something about Galileo.

Thinking about the boy brought his mind reeling back to the disturbing dream he had just had. What the hell was that about?

He was so absorbed in his thoughts that he didn't hear someone enter the room until they turned on a light nearby. It revealed a woman with vivid purple hair and ripped clothing. He remembered her from long ago, the rebellious girl he had left with Galileo. She had been the one who helped the dreamer evade his grasp many times. Where the hell was he?

"What the hell are you doing here?!" she exploded.

He winced; the loud blast of her voice overpowered his hangover. He soon heard Galileo stumble in and stammer (literally stammer) out an explanation to Scaramouch. And suddenly all of the events of last night came crashing back. He had confessed his deepest secret to this teen, and he had agreed to live with him and his upstart girl friend.

He watched the bickering teenagers, wincing whenever one of their voices became too high. What the hell had he gotten himself into?

**AN: So after I wrote this, I realized how slashy it could come across between Khash and Gaz. I didn't intend for it to happen, I swear. I didn't really mean for it to become a chapter two to what I had thought was going to be a one-shot. Go fig. Well, hope this was enjoyable!**


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